The Nilfgaardian Conquest
by Skyrimfan
Summary: Ciri travels with a Nilfgaardian banner to the Province of Skyrim to aid the Fourth Legion in combating the Aldmeri Dominion. The Dragonborn does the same and commanded the Tenth Legion in aiding the Nilfgaardians in their fight against Radovid. P.O.V. switches between various characters, and that includes minor ones.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, chose the road of a Witcher on the Path - she worked side by side with her old mentor, Geralt of Rivia until he taught her everything he knew and then they parted ways, they still do meet up from time to time, either drinking or chatting away merrily of their past deeds or what could have been. Even though she had refused the throne her father, Emperor Emhyr var Emreis wished to hand over to her - they still keep in contact, Emhyr wanted to show that even he could have a change of heart. Ciri wasn't about to easily forgive the things Emhyr had done in the past, but at least she was willing to work her relationship with her father. And her real journey was about to begin in the Nilfgaardian-occupied city of Vizima, it was in the Great Hall where she first heard about a foreign land with their own laws and races.

 **Chapter One**

 **Ciri I**

"Who are they?" Ciri asked her old-time friend and mother-figure, Yennefer of Venneberg. "They don't look like nordlings to me."

"They hail from a land called Tamriel, a vast continent that share our waters." Yennefer replied calmly, she too was curious about the foreigners. "Judging by their armor and the insignia on their cloaks and weapons, I am certain that they are members of the Imperial Legion - the fighting force of the Cyrodiilic Empire."

"There's an Empire?" Ciri was surprised, she hadn't heard about this before! She was always certain that they were alone.

"They have been around for a thousand years, long before even you or I came into this word. They normally keep to their own borders and we keep to ours, it is said that magic-users is a common sight in Tamriel, you can actually walk down the road and see a few mages performing their arts in full view." Yennefer sucked in her breath when her eyes caught the foreigners, five of them had brown hoods drawn up and the magical aura she could sense from them resonated past the records. "As I live and breathe...Imperial Legion Battlemages."

"Shhh!" Ciri planted a finger on Yennefer's lips. "I want to hear what they're saying."

"Your Imperial Majesty, I am Quentin Cipius, a Legate of the Fourth Legion under the service of His Imperial Majesty, Titus Mede II." The foreigner with no helmet or hood spoke in a clear but respectful voice. "I have come on behalf of His Grace to ask for aid. The Aldmeri Dominion has taken the Province of Skyrim from our grasp and our Nord brothers are fighting a losing battle against the pointy-ear bastards, in return for Nilfgaard's aid, we will grant you Imperial supplies, ships, soldiers and healers to help you in your conquest against the Northern Kingdoms." He stated loudly and awaited Emhyr's answer.

"If it's Nilfgaard's aid you require, then you shall have it. I'll dispatch a banner to follow you but in return for my army, I request the aid of the legendary Dragonborn otherwise known as the Dovahkiin, I have heard the tales of his valor and mystical powers. If he were here leading my men, victory will be swift." Emhyr gave his answer. "If Emperor Titus could send a Legion to aid us, that would be even better. But I care not for soldiers, I need the Dragonborn, I need his Voice." He stood to his full height. "It is high time that Radovid pays for his treachery by spilling Imperial blood at a peace summit all those years ago."

Quentin dipped his head. "I am sure General Marius will come to your aid, after all, his wife is a vampire and the only thing he hates more than witch-hunters are Redanians." A small wolfish grin came across the Legate's face. "And besides, like you said, he would enjoy tearing King Radovid to pieces."

Yennefer shrugged at Ciri's look. "I don't know much about the Dragonborn." She replied honestly. "Truth be told, only Triss knows about him. They've met a couple of times when the Lodge was still active, and that was before she became the adviser to Temeria's King." She straightened her robes. "Now if you'll excuse me Ciri, I must ask some questions." Ciri watched as Yennefer pushed her way past the nobles and towards the foreigners.

Ciri took a moment to digest what she heard before moving in to confront the Legate herself. "Excuse me sir," She spoke too loudly than she intended as all eyes turned to her, she ignored the stares from her father and a dozen Nilfgaardian soldiers and proceeded to fire off her questions. "Who is this Dragonborn? What did my father meant by the Voice? Why is he so important that everyone refers to him by his title?"

"We call him Dragonborn because of his role in ousting Alduin the World-Eater from Nirn, it is merely a title of respect, we didn't take his word seriously when he told us about the dragons returning from the dead. My superiors waved his reports off as superstition nonsense, but when a massive black dragon attacked and burned Helgen to the ground - they started to panic like the old fools they are. All across Skyrim landscape, dragons were returning to life, and doing the things that they do best. Burning houses and stealing livestock from the farmers. But Marius, the Dragonborn, he did not despair like we did. He showed no fear when we did. He fought while we ran. He bled while we cried. He did the impossible, rallying opposing sides under one banner and taking the fight directly to Alduin. We owe him our lives. We would have all died if it wasn't for him." Quentin explained slowly, making sure that the ashen-haired girl understood him.

"Understandable, than what about the Voice? What is it? A power?"

"Aye, a power bestowed upon him by the Divines themselves. Not everyone is born with the soul of a dragon. When a dragon is slain, he will absorb and steal their power and knowledge, gaining the ability to speak in the Draconic language. The Voice refers to the the Thu'um or a Shout. Marius spent most of his adulthood learning from the Greybeards atop the Throat of the World, the tallest mountain in the Province of Skyrim, the masters in the Way of the Voice lived in seclusion and rarely leave the mountain that their Thu'um could kill you with a single whisper. Normal folks might say that Marius is as normal as any other human being, but that thought is far from the truth, Marius is locked in an eternal combat with his dragon conscience, how he resisted the thought to dominate and rule all of Men and Mer is beyond me."

"Wait, let me get this straight." Ciri said softly, the truth about the Dragonborn was about to come clean to her. "If Marius were to give in to his dragon conscience, would he be unstoppable?" She dreaded the answer that Legate Quentin was about to give.

"Yes, he would be practically unstoppable." Quentin replied with a steely gaze. "Given his current power, he could easily unearth the entire continent and turn it to his own personal paradise, but he didn't. He can end this war with just a single whisper from his mouth, but he didn't. He doesn't like the attention, he just wants to be normal, and we respect his wish."

"And what about the Redanians?"

"That is his story to tell. Up to this day, only his family and the Emperor knows about the rocky history he had with King Radovid. But there is one sorceress I know that the Dragonborn met on this continent, I believe her name was Merigold. They worked together to uncover a plot that was set in motion in Velen, you can ask her if you wish, provided she's still alive." Quentin suggested.

"She is. She's an adviser to Kovir's King, living far away from the war front." Ciri stated with a small grin. "Thank you for answering my questions, now I know where my road lies."

"It is my honor milady." Quentin bowed. "If you ever find yourself in Skyrim, come look for me in Whiterun."

"That I will." Ciri gave a nod to the foreigner. She was rejoined by Yennefer shortly after.

"What did he tell you?" Yennefer inquired curiously.

"The history of the Dragonborn, turns out he's a lot like me. I found out that his name is Marius, and they call him Dragonborn out of respect for his deeds, you won't believe me when I tell you the things he had done to save not just their continent, but ours as well. He fights with his inner-self almost every day and he never once complain about being born with the soul of a dragon. He's been through a lot." Yennefer raised an eyebrow. Ciri frowned and swatted Yennefer's shoulders lightly. "Oh, he's already married, besides, I'm a Witcheress. I have duties to uphold."

Yennefer hid her growing smirk. "I'm sure you do." She sighed happily. "So what is your plan?"

"I'm not quite sure. Geralt's at Kaer Morhen - doing who knows what. Eskel's out traveling and has been ever since Uncle Vesemir's death. Triss, as you know is in Kovir. And don't get me started on Lambert, that fool is out riding across the country side with his wife, Keira Metz, in the midst of a war!" Ciri grumbled out the last sentence, not that she wasn't happy for the man. It was high time that Lambert settled down with someone, and her mind couldn't agree with anyone else other than Keira. An idea morphed in her head. "I know where my path lies now. I won't do any good in Vizima. I have to travel and there is only one place I can think of." Her eyes trailed off towards a distant banner with the insignia of a diamond-kite red dragon on a black background.

Yennefer followed her gaze and sighed. "You plan to sneak on board the ship bound for Skyrim." She said dryly.

"YES!" Ciri cheered, clamming a hand over her mouth when she realized that she had just shouted. "I mean...yes." She whispered softly.

"Fine. Only that I go with you." Yennefer stated firmly in her no-nonsense tone. Ciri tilted her head in confusion. "Let's just say that there are some skills that cannot be obtain anywhere else other than the Imperial City in Cyrodiil."

"Suit yourself." Ciri shrugged her shoulders. "I'll be 'leading' and 'commanding' father's army while you run off to learn magic."

"Very funny Ciri." Yennefer chided with a pointed look. She gasped when she heard a small cough behind, she turned around only to come face to face with the Emperor of Nilfgaard himself. She lowered her head. "Your Imperial Majesty."

"Yennefer." Emhyr spoke gruffly before turning to face his daughter. "Cirilla, I can't help but overhear that you plan to sneak on board one of the vessels bound to help our Imperial allies across the Great Sea," He raised his hand to stop her protests. "even though you chose to follow the Witcher Path, you are still my daughter, hence, you are still a noble citizen in Nilfgaard. I am sending the 4th Cavalry Army to the Imperial Province of Skyrim and you will lead them."

"Are you really willing to let me lead your army?" Ciri blinked her eyes. "Who are you? What have you done to my father." She pointed accusingly.

Emhyr surprised his daughter and Yennefer by chuckling softly. "You have your mother's mirth. And I am still the very same man. But enough of that, you will lead the 4th Cavalry Army and help General Tullius of the Fourth Legion to retake Skyrim from the hands of the worthless Thalmor. Show the High Elves the ferocity of Nilfgaard, let them know that Men are not to be trifled with, let them know fear or Men will forever be harassed and squashed underneath the boots of Mer." He nodded and brushed past Ciri and Yennefer, he stopped abruptly and turned back once more. "I have written to Triss Merigold and she has agreed to be your informer, she'll be sending you letters and notes about the current war in Skyrim and the future of our conquest on the North. Our armies will set out to Novigrad the moment the Dragonborn and Imperial reinforcements arrive, then we will ride to Velen and crush Radovid once and for all."

"Father...I.." Ciri started as she folded her arms. "How...how did you know the Dragonborn?"

Emhyr frowned as he recalled that fateful day. "It was about four years back when I last saw him. Marius, was his name. He was scouring Temeria, Redania and Kaedwen, going as far as the Blue Mountains. His traveling companion was Merigold and a small company of Imperial soldiers. If my memory serves me correct, it was during one of the many peace summits when Radovid accused him and his men for being trespassers and foreign spies, Merigold tried to say otherwise but the fool wouldn't listen and slaughtered the Imperial soldiers. In my entire life, I have never seen a man with powers such as his, I could feel the entire ground shaking and the air grew more colder as his eyes blazed a color of orange, the ground shook as his lips parted causing blood - Redanian blood to spill all across the courtyard of Loc Muinne. Like the gales of the Great Sea, he moved swiftly from one end to the other, his blade taking the souls of those that wished him dead, and on his other hand was a purple-orb which he used to summon strange looking creatures that did not hesitate to enter combat on his side." Yennefer's mouth fell open, never before has she ever heard of magic responding like that. "These creatures were massive in size and wore thick armor that broke many Redanian swords, their two-handed swords easily sliced through the thickest Redanian armor as if it was a mere butter. In a total of three minutes, Radovid was left standing alone - the Dragonborn could have cut him down where he stood but he didn't, he chose to spare Radovid's life and said these few words; _'There will come a reckoning where not even the mightiest and strongest knights in your Kingdom can save you from, and when that time comes, I will personally be there to see it.'_ "

"And he's about to get it." Ciri stated firmly. "From what you told me, I ask that you allow the Dragonborn to kill Radovid."

"That's what I intend to ask of him. I know he treats his men as dearly as he holds his own Gods." And that was what impressed Emhyr the most.

* * *

 **Frodnar I**

Marius Maro, the General of the Tenth Legion, a devoted follower of the Nine Divines, the Harbinger of the Companions, the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, a patron of the Thieves Guild, a loving husband and father to two children and lastly the legendary Dragonborn. Stormed into his manor in Solitude in a fit of boiling rage, he stalked up the stairs and headed directly for his bedchambers, making sure to slam the door firmly behind him. His two adopted children flinched when they heard the door slam. The first was a Nord boy of age eleven, named Frodnar. His birth parents were massacred along with the entire populace of Riverwood by Thalmor Justiciars accusing the entire village to be worshipers of the forbidden Divine, Talos and thus burned the entire village for being heretics. He survived as his father had stuffed him into a bale of hay mere moments before the soldiers kicked down their door, he heard the screams and cries of the people he knew, smelt fresh blood and burning flesh. He was picked up by a Whiterun patrol wandering aimlessly around the ruined village - badly traumatized and on the brink of a mental nervous breakdown. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater summoned the best healers to tend to his wounds and treat his mind until he was able to travel again, he told the tale of how he became the sole survivor and what the High Elves did to the other villagers including Dorthe, a girl of his age. Not even the village Wood Elf had been spared. Balgruuf decided to sent him to the Orphanage in Riften where he would be with others of his age, but the Divines already had a plan laid out for him - for his destiny took an entire turn when the carriage he was own ran into a patrol of Imperial Legion soldiers requesting news about Riverwood. The second was Lucia, a Nord girl of ten, she lost both her parents and was kicked out from her home by her abusive relatives and left to beg in the streets of Whiterun when the word came to the Jarl's ears, Balgruuf likewise had her on the same carriage bound for Riften, and that was how she met her brother and father - and she didn't regret a single minute of it.

Frodnar sheathed his wooden sword, a gift from Marius during Saturilia last year. "Pa must have heard something real bad to get him so riled up like this. I've never seen him burning with rage." He whispered softly to his sister.

Lucia sighed deeply, lowering her lute which she was playing when her father came home. "It's too bad Ma went to see Grandma Valerica at Castle Volkihar. She's the only one who can talk to Pa when he's in his dragon mode." Just on cue, a cloud of bats swirled into their room before morphing into the shape of their mother, Serana. Lucia jumped off her bed and threw her arms around Serana's waist, taking the vampire completely by surprise. "Ma! Thank the Divines you're home!"

"Wha-what's going on here?" Serana inquired, returning the hug to Lucia while turning to her son for answers. Lucia released her hold and went to stand beside her brother, the two shared a look before they begin pushing and shoving each other forward, arguing softly in whispered tones. Normally, Serana would laugh at their usual sibling-rivalry and bickering with each other but this wasn't the case, not when her vampiric instincts told her that there was something wrong with her husband. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the duo. "Knock it off you two. Frodnar, if you continue pushing your sister, you'll be grounded for the next two weeks. And Lucia, if you continue bickering with your brother, I'll take away your lute for the next two weeks." The two immediately shut their mouths and mumbled their apologies. "Now, explain to me what in Oblivion is going on here? One at a time."

Frodnar gulped loudly. "Um...Pa came home in a fit of rage. Didn't say a word of greeting like he normally do and just stormed straight into the room and slammed the door shut behind. I haven't seen him this angry before." He spoke softly. "Can you please go check on him. We would have gone but we're afraid of...his temper and current mood." He glanced at his sister and saw her nodding in agreement.

"Pa has been acting like this ever since the war started." Lucia continued for him. "Not that we blame him of course!" She quickly defended herself. Despite her young age, she already knew the trials of warfare, of how many would not return to their loved ones and die fighting in some foreign land with no chance of seeing their home. "Pa always treats his soldiers as dearly as he holds the Divines." She lowered her head. "And his mood only darken since Uncle Ralof died."

Memories of Ralof's death flashed into Serana's eyes, she was there when the Nord fell. After the end of the Civil War, Ralof rejoined the Imperial Legion and was attached to the Tenth Legion, he survived countless of skirmishes with the Thalmor but on one fateful day, he was surrounded and cut off from the rest. The man was cut open and stabbed numerous times by the Thalmor soldiers, and she could do nothing to stop them, Marius had cried for several nights after laying Ralof to rest. She soon learned that Ralof was a close friend of her husband despite them being on opposing sides in the Civil War, the Imperials and Stormcloaks clashed many times during the war but not a single battle went by without the two avoiding killing each other, their bond was just too great that they had no intention to harm the other. When Ralof died, it was like losing the only brother he ever had, Serana had spent several nights comforting him - trying to get him to move on which he did. She shook those thoughts away and nodded grimly at her daughter's choice of words. She made up her mind and decided to find out just what in Oblivion had made her husband so mad. Telling her children to stay quiet and only come when summoned, she went into her bedchambers to find her husband staring out into the city square.

"Afternoon love." Marius greeted warmly, but one could easily sense the rage inside him.

"Afternoon yourself." Serana returned the greeting. Marius smiled sadly and returned to glance at the city. "What's troubling you love?"

Marius gave a frustrated sigh. "I've been ordered to sail for Vizima, to aid the Nilfgaardians in their war against the Northern Kingdoms. It would appear that our beloved Emperor sent an envoy to Emhyr var Emries to ask for help in defeating the Thalmor and the Emperor of Nilfgaard agreed in return for my help." He explained.

"Isn't that great?" Serana questioned. "You could go see your friend again. Triss, I believe you said her name was."

"Triss Merigold." Marius repeated and nodded his head. "It's not that I'm not looking forward to seeing her again, after all that we've been through in the short time that we've known each other. It's just..." He brushed his hand through his thick raven hair and shook his head. "...I promised Lucia and Frodnar that I will spent the holidays with them, and you know me Serana, I always live up to my promises. And now, I've been ordered to sail this Morndas."

"Well, let's find out what they have to say about this shall we?" Serana did not wait for Marius to reply before snapping her fingers, the door flung open causing a startled cry of surprise from two surprised children, she grinned and gestured them to enter. "After eight months of living under the same roof as me, you still haven't notice that as a vampire, I can hear even the softest of sounds and see through walls." Frodnar slapped his forehead at forgetting the most simplest thing. Lucia, on the other hand shrugged her shoulders and giggled nervously. "Relax you two, you're not in any trouble. We just want your personal feelings on the Elder Council's orders."

Lucia looked up and took a step forward. "This war has taken away more lives than the previous and the Thalmor's presence in this very city irks us all, the Solitude guards put up with them because they care about the safety of the High Queen if not - they would have openly revolted against their rule." Marius stared opened-mouth at his daughter's smart words. Serana only grinned even wider. "The Divines must be watching over us ever since the war broke out, even after Pa killed many of their kind on the field of battle, never before have they ever barged down our doors and burn us for being heretics and Imperial spies. But it won't be long before the Justiciars discover about our true allegiance, and before that happens, we need to oust the Thalmor garrison from Solitude." She continued.

Frodnar nodded his head. "She's right. I have no intention of being burned alive at the stake at such a young age." He stated. "Nilfgaard lies across the Sea of Ghosts, it'll take at least a month to journey there, and time is ticking. The earlier the Nilfgaardians arrive to help us, the better the Empire can win this conflict."

"If this is truly what you wish, than I will go." Marius said, Frodnar and Lucia smiled and nodded their heads in unison. "How about you, my love?"

Serana cupped her hand on his right cheek and leaned forward. "Just come back alive, wolf." She smiled seductively, and pushed Marius towards the bed. "Now, forgive me for being impatient but tomorrow is Morndas and I want a ride on my dragon before he leaves." She started kissing and cuddling in a fiery passion, totally ignoring the presence of her two wide-eyed children. As the kissing grew more intense, she snapped her fingers and her robes started materialising away - leaving her completely in her birthday suit.

"Argh! MY EYES!" Frodnar screamed and ran out of the room. "Bad idea, bad idea..."

"Don't look back!" Lucia piped in after him, as she too sprinted down the stairs.

"Why?" Frodnar took the risk and glanced back. "AH! IT BURNS!"

"Told you so, you nitwit!" Lucia retorted with a roll of her eyes. "Let's just visit the legionnaires at Fort Hraggstad."

"Anything to get us away while our parents make love." Frodnar readily agreed with her.

And that was exactly what they did. Taking the scenic route towards the Imperial-held fort, doing their best to avoid being spotted by the Thalmor Justiciars, having a mother as a vampire and a father who's an Alpha Werewolf came in pretty handy. Lucia chose to follow in Serana's footsteps, to live as a pure-blooded vampire but by the graces of the Nine Divines, she was able to switch the color of her eyes between red and blue any time she pleased - which was a perfect way to avoid getting a wooden stake to the heart by Vigilants of Stendarr or paranoid people. Frodnar, on the other hand chose the path of the Wolf, stalking forests and behaving more beast than men on nights of a full moon. His sense of smell surpasses Marius due to his young age but his speed is far more slower than his father's lupine form, he could clearly recall his first transformation in the Underforge and despite how werewolves were supposed to behave - he can and will always control his blood thirst but that doesn't mean he won't use them. And the two had the same gift of immortality - a feat for being a pure-blooded vampire and werewolf. Lucia held up her hand to stop her brother from advancing, her eyes flashed a brief red before she nodded, signalling that the coast was clear. The two came to a halt outside the fort and took a minute or two to glance into their surroundings, both having the gift to sense any oncoming things, be it undead or living things from a far distance. They scanned the trees and roads, their eyes shifting into their respective predatory stance, slowly sniffing out any signs of foul play and thankfully they found none.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" Lucia cupped her hands and hollered when she noticed that there were no sentries on duty.

No answer.

"I don't like this." Frodnar commented, he sniffed the air. "Blood...I smell blood." He shared a glance with his sister before walking closer to the fort.

Lucia took her first step into the fort and froze at the sight. Imperial legionnaires could be seen lying motionlessly all across the ground, some were slumped against the wall with Elven arrows embedded into the front and back of their armor, others just laid around in a gruesome manner. Judging from the looks of things, the legionnaries were taken completely by surprise and did not have the proper time to retaliate before they were cut down - that could be seen on the left where a dozen lay in cots and make-shift beds with bandages and throats open. The entire courtyard was littered with Imperial dead with a few unlucky Thalmors, dried blood coated the entire ground, scorches along the ground and walls told them clearly that Destruction spells were used during the attack. Nodding at each other, the two broke off into the two buildings located within the fort, Frodnar towards the Commander's quarters and Lucia towards the prison. The prison was in a complete mess with tables overturned and the smell of blood everywhere, Lucia covered her nose to block out the stench as she prodded her way through the dead until she came to the cells. She made a mental note to kill every single Thalmor she sees from here on out for not even the prisoners had been spared the sword. She decided that she had seen enough and rushed out to find her brother, she found him on the second floor of the Commander's quarters staring remorsefully at eighteen Imperial bodies.

"Fuck..." Frodnar said softly. "The Imperials didn't stand a chance at all! Those bloody Thalmor just cut them down where they stood..." He gasped when he saw a crumbled letter, he picked it up and read its contents and looked at his sister. "We have to warn Pa. The Thalmor knows about his allegiance, we aren't safe in Solitude anymore."

"By the Nine..." Lucia shook her head as she peeked at the letter. "I'll fly home. You ready the horses." She turned into a cloud of bats and flew towards the city.

Frodnar turned back towards the fallen legionnaires. "Have no fear. Pa will avenge you. We will win this war." He promised solemnly, he felt the cool air blowing past his cheeks, causing him to shiver slightly. It was as if the spirits of the fallen soldiers accepted his oath for vengeance. He whirled around and disappeared in a flash. He arrived at the Solitude stables only to find Thalmor Justiciars questioning Blaise - an orphan working at the stables who so happens to be one of their friends, he frowned and surveryed the surroundings, he knew the Solitude guards wouldn't care if he killed some Thalmor. He smiled devilishly as he leaped down from above. He sunk his nails into the neck of the first Justiciar he landed on causing the High Elf to let out a piercing scream of agony, the other two turned around and brandished their weapons, he flipped backwards to avoid a flame spell before leaping into the air and disembowled a second, spilling Mer guts on the ground. The last Justiciar swung her sword in a fit of rage that it grazed his arm. "Fuck!" He cursed as he covered the flesh wound with his right hand, he glared up at the Thalmor as she lifted her blade once more. He smirked coldly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The Justiciar went rigid for a moment before she started gasping for air, dropping her blade and hands wrapping around her own throat, she floated up into the air and wriggled for a few seconds whilst making choking sounds. And before anyone could do anything, the sound of a bone snapping could be heard and the body fell limp. Frodnar inclined his head in gratitude at the small figure standing above.

"That's what you get for messing with my brother!" Lucia spat at the body. She looked at the injury on Frodnar's arm and frowned. "You're lucky the cut just grazed your skin and it wasn't deep. But be more thankful that it wasn't silver." She looked over at the cowering boy. "Blaise...are you alright?"

"Huh? Yea...I...I'm fine." Blaise stuttered his reply. "By the Nine, the Thalmor must have found out about your Pa's allegiance. They came to me demanding for your horses, I refused and they threatened to gut me if I don't...I would have died if it wasn't for your arrival, so thanks." He explained. "But you mustn't tarry here, you have to go!"

"Where's Pa and Ma?" Frodnar asked his sister.

Lucia mounted her steed. "Enroute to Dawnstar. The Imperial Second Fleet is there along with the Tenth. He told us to ride for the Imperial camp in the Reach."

"Good luck you two." Blaise said as Frodnar mounted his steed. "And may the Nine watch over you."

"Over you as well." They answered in unison.

* * *

 **Constantius Tituleius I**

The Reach - known to the Nords as the most beautiful and dangerous place in the Province. Beautiful for its scenic routes and breathtaking views. Dangerous for its high possibility of getting a nice shave from an enraged Forsworn. However, with the Aldmeri Dominion taking control of Solitude ever since the outbreak of the war, the Fourth Legion had no choice but to flee from the capital and flee south towards the Reach. Legate Constantius Tituleius was placed in charge of a quarter of the Fourth Legion after General Tullius moved eastward to secure Riften and Falkreath, if the two cities fell to the hands of the Thalmor, the legion would be fighting a lonely war with no chance of reinforcements nor fresh supplies from the Imperial City. Reports from scouts revealed that Tullius had indeed fortified both Riften and Falkreath, leaving Legate Rikke at Falkreath while he personally took control of Riften, and word had also arrived that the Tenth Legion had begun marching towards Dawnstar and the Imperial Second Fleet were last spotted sailing past Solitude. The legionnaires camping out in the Reach faced a chance of a Forsworn raid almost every alternate night, but after routing the Forsworn every single time they tried to attack the camp had them leaving the legion out of fear, which was considered a blessing from the Divines, Constantius called it a sheer dumb luck.

"Riders approaching!" Came a cry from the sentry.

The entire camp froze.

"Hold! It's just a lad and his sister!" Another sentry yelled before the archers could fire.

Constantius squinted his eyes at the two figures approaching the camp, he knew at once who they were. "Stand down!" He roared, pushing his way towards the front with a huge beaming smile on his face. "Don't you recognize the Dragonborn's children when you see 'em?!" He chided as the archers lowered their bows. The two figures came closer until their face became much more clearer, and the atmosphere in the camp relaxed, many had seen the Dragonborn's children during a feast held by Jarl Balgruuf the Greater after Alduin's defeat. The Legate watched as both the boy and the girl dismounted, he smiled as he approached. "By the Divines, its good to see the two of you again." He shook their hands tenderly. "I haven's seen your parents ever since the start of this accursed war. How are they if I may ask?"

"They're fine." Frodnar answered. "Pa's on his way to Dawnstar to meet up with the Tenth."

"Ma went with him. She'll be joining us here at a later date." Lucia continued for him.

"Good to hear." Constantius said with a nod. "Come, you must be hungry after a long ride from Solitude." He waved them towards his tent.

The trio settled in rather nicely where Constantius had a nice selection of meat and vegetables arranged, the meat mostly came from rabbits and elks that either fell into a man-made trap or killed by the foraging party. Frodnar dived into his meal. Lucia threw a disgusted look towards her brother and setlled for the fork and knife. Constantius noted from his silent observation that the two had followed their parents foot steps, Frodnar being a werewolf and Lucia being a vampire, in the past he would have commented on their choice of being an abomination. However, after being rescued by Marius in werewolf form, and witnessing the carnage and powers that a vampire could unleash against their enemies - his entire belief towards certain undead groups changed drastically.

"Now that you have your fill. I need to ask you a question." He said. The two nodded. "Barely a week ago, I sent Captain Aldis and a small squad of legionnaires to reinforce the garrison at Fort Hraggstad. Did you happen upon them on your travels?"

Frodnar nodded solemnly. "I guess we should have told you why we fled in the first place." He sighed. "The legionnaires you spoke off must have been attacked by a Thalmor raiding party for there were several wounded being treated in the fort. Captain Aldis arrived but..."

"The Thalmor attacked again, slaughtering everyone including the wounded." Lucia continued for him. "Every single legionnaire was put to the sword. Not a soul survived."

"I'll kill them! I'll kill them all! Oblivion take every single last one of 'em!" Constantius rose to his feet. Stalking past both a worried Frodnar and Lucia and out into the open air. He glared intently towards the ground and balled his his hands into a fist. His fist shook with anger and his eyes blazed with rage as his heart wept for the men and women that he had sent out, he lifted his arms to the sky as he fell to his knees. He shouted a few words into the heavens that would be recorded down in Imperial history as the words of a mourning Legate.

 **"YOU ELVEN BASTARDS, GIVE ME BACK MY LEGIONS!"**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 **Marius I**

The warm waters of the Great Sea splashed against the sides of the Imperial flagship as the city of Vizima came into view, it has been a total of one month and six days ever since Marius left Dawnstar to aid the Nilfgaard Empire in her conquest against the Northern Kingdoms. Sixty-five frigates and galleys sailed alongside the flagship, and on board the various vessels were legionnaires and rangers from the Tenth Legion - his own legion, his brothers and sisters in all but blood. Five thousand - one hundred and thirty-three men and women were just told to pack their bags and sail half a mile away to the other side of Nirn to fight and potentially die in a foreign land, but he knew that this had to be done. The Empire needed Nilfgaard. And Nilfgaarded needed the Empire. It was a fair trade. The familiar banner of the Golden Sun greeted him upon arrival as were the torn and tattered banners of the Temerian Kingdom - the previous owners of Vizima before the Nilfgaardians moved in and occupied the city, and this very city was his destination. Already, he could see rows and rows of Nilfgaardian soldiers standing in formation, waiting for his arrival, and at the far end he could see a familiar head of red and Emperor Emhyr var Emries himself along with several other high-ranking Nilfgaardians that he didn't know.

The ship's ramp was lowered and his personal escorts disembarked and formed a line, his legates and various commanders walked behind him as he approached the Nilfgaardian contigent of guards. "Saighdiúirí! Cúirtéis an Dragonborn!" Came a cry from the Nilfgaardian soldiers as they all at once snapped to attention, those with halberds brought it to a salute while those that were unarmed brought their hands over their chests.

"Welcome to Vizima, Dragonborn." Emperor Emhyr inclined his head towards Marius.

"Thank you for the welcome, Your Majesty." Marius returned the greeting before turning to face the redhead. "Triss Merigold. Its been a while."

"It sure has." Triss replied with a nod. "I heard that you've married Serana, I always knew that the two of you would ended up together." She said with a dreamy smile. "Do you have any kids yet?"

"Two. Both orphans. I adopted them." Marius replied with a warm smile. "Frodnar and Lucia."

"You must introduce us one day." Triss insisted before turning serious. "I'm sure most of your men are quite tired from the month's journey from Tamriel, we have cleared an area for your men to pitch their tents. It's located at the former headquarters of the Order of the Flaming Rose. And we have also prepared a room for your arrival-?!" She stopped mid-sentence at Marius' raised hand.

"I thank you for the hospitality, but I must refuse." Marius stated plainly.

"Of course. I understand." Emhyr chose this moment to speak. "Tales of how you treat your soldiers as equals has spread even to this part of the world. But we can discuss this further on a later date, for now you must rest. We will talk more over dinner. I insist that you and your men attend."

Marius dipped his head in respect. "If that is your wish, than we will gladly attend the dinner."

The Emperor of Nilfgaard regarded the Dragonborn once more. "I know you worry for your homeland but have no fear, my daughter Ciri and my finest sorceress, Yennefer shall see to it that the Province of Skyrim is liberated from Thalmor control."

"I hope so." Marius replied softly. His gaze hard. "Before I departed Dawnstar, I received a missive from Legate Constantius - a friend serving in the Fourth. He wrote to me that Aldis, another of my friends and the former Captain of the Solitude guards, along with two hundred and fifty-six of my brothers and sisters were mercilessly slaughtered at Fort Hraggstad. From what my son told him, they did not have a single chance of fighting back. Not even the wounded survived..."

"Bastards." Triss spat coldly. "How could they just kill the wounded. Isn't there a code or something?"

"The Thalmor do not believe in chivalry codes. They never have. They never will." Marius answered. "They only believe in one thing. To dominate the world of Men."

"I would gladly sent another banner-" Emhyr interrupted, fearing Marius' wrath but paused at his raised hand.

"I appreciate the concern but no." Marius responded. "However, if this war is won here and Radovid lies dead. We might talk about sending another banner." He turned towards his legates and commanders. "Get the men ashore and have the Second Fleet sail into the bay, then come find me in the castle, we have more planning to do."

"Yes General Marius!" Came the reply from the men.

Marius turned back towards the Nilfgaardian entourage. "I need to see the map of the continent before I can plan anything else." Emhyr gestured his hand to the right, and the two begin walking towards the castle with Triss accompanying them from behind. "First, I need to know the current outcome of the war."

"Skellige has formed an alliance with us with one condition, that they remain an independent Kingdom with their own government and laws. I agreed immediately. It lifted the tension towards the west and now I can focus solely on Redania. But Radovid is smart, I'll give him that. He attacked Kaedwen, his own ally where the Kingdom was already in a state of disarray after the death of Henselt six months ago, and they joined him. So instead of facing against a weaken Kingdom, we faced an even stronger and larger Redanian force." Emhyr sighed and shook his head. "I should have marched my forces during the winter."

"There's no use crying over milk that had been split." Marius commented as they arrived in the war room where several Nilfgaardian nobles awaited them. The Dragonborn brushed past most of them and studied the map intently, and without lifting his head he spoke. "Have your main army move towards Velen and leave White Orchard to me, we will link up on the outskirts of Novigrad. From what I know of Temerians, they would rather fight to the death than listen to Radovid's commands and judging by the pieces on this map, I can tell straight away that you are still facing Temerian movements despite the fact that you conquered their capital." Emhyr nodded gruffly. "So this is what we should do, focus your entire force on Novigrad and keep harassing Redanian lines and slowly push them towards Novigrad. Meanwhile, I'll seek out this Temerian rebel leader and force him to the table."

"Vernon Roche will not lay down his blade on the table easily." Triss said softly. "He's a tough-nut. But he might agree to a talk if he sees me." She folded her arms and smirked. "And besides, who would throw away a chance to see the mighty Thu'um being deployed?"

Marius chuckled softly. "Just like old times eh?" Triss nodded gingerly. "Then its settled. Triss will accompany my legion to White Orchard." His eyes narrowed slightly as he gazed intently towards Novigrad. "And when the time comes for us to take Novigrad, I'm going to tear Radovid apart, limb from limb, arm from arm, I'm going to make him suffer in agony. I'll make him know pain. I'll make him know how it feels like to see your entire army crumble before your very eyes. Then I'll gorge out his eyes and feed them to the dogs. He won't have any mercy from me." He growled coldly. The torches lining up the hallway flickered, the wind howled stronger and the fire in the hearth only roared brighter and stronger. Every single object within a ten-foot radius reacted accordingly to his rage. "He'll answer for butchering my brothers and sisters, I'll see to that."

"No Nilfgaardian will stop you, I'll make sure of that." Emhyr quickly replied, recovering from the wrath of Marius' inner dragon.

Triss faired much better. "Radovid will die by your hand, I swear." She stated firmly. "But we do have a major problem." She announced as she came beside Marius and pointed her finger towards Novigrad. "Witch-Hunters. You had your fair share in running into them during your short stay here, but now they have grown into a sizeable force commanded by the worse man ever known by all mages. He goes by the name; Menge. Sorceresses and mages along with a hundred innocent non-magic folks have died at the stake all because of his doing, I lost three friends to the fire thanks to him. Geralt tried to aid me in killing him but he discovered our plot and called for reinforcements, we were forced to flee, and I had to leave Novigrad." She stared at the map until a gentle hand comforted her shoulder.

"There is one other thing I hate than Redanians." Marius said slowly. "It's Witch-Hunters. I want to see them try handling an Alpha Werewolf."

Triss' eyes went huge like saucers. "You?! An Alpha?!" She covered her mouth with her hands. "The last time you were here, you were merely a Beta!"

Marius shrugged. "What can I say? I got promoted." He smirked. "Let their so called Eternal Fire aid them from one of Hircine's hunters."

"Now that is a sight that I would love to see." Triss droned on.

"And you will." Marius promised as he returned his eyes to the map. "Hmm...I know of a way that we can get into Novigrad." He continued smiling at Triss.

Triss rolled her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that it involves me."

* * *

 **Ciri II**

Five hundred and twenty-five ships and nearly five thousand men and horses. Yes. She counted. Sailing half a continent away from their homeland to fight and potentially die in a foreign land, Ciri had learned that the Cyrodiilic Empire mainly kept to themselves and rarely contacted their neighbors hence the lack of information in the libraries and maps. Judging from the current map that she held, they would be landing in a small fishing village known as Dawnstar. As the fog died down, she could clearly see a small village lying in the distance and from a spyglass which she snatched from a soldier's hands, she could see rows and rows of pitched-tents and banners of the Imperial Legion flying all around, she could make out at least a thousand soldiers rushing about yet most were running towards the sea. "Prepare to disembark!" She ordered. The Nilfgaardians moved at her command, readying their longboats and horses - most importantly their horses. "Don't wait for me. I'll be on dry land before any of you." Was all she said before she vanished in a globe of green light causing Yennefer to sigh. She found herself standing on dry land and surrounded by over a hundred soldiers with both genders. "I am Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the daughter of Emperor Emhyr var Emries. With me are soldiers from the 4th Cavalry Army. We are here to answer Emperor Titus Mede II's plea for help."

"I am known as Hrollod, a Legate of the Fourth Legion. I am honored to be the first to make contact with our allies." A man dressed in heavy armor with a fur cloak spoke.

"Well met Legate Hrollod," Ciri greeted. "Would you mind bringing me up to speed with the current situation at the front?"

"Gladly. Come with me." Hrollod escorted Ciri into the commanding tent where a map of the entire Province was laid out across the table with several flags, most were green while a small portion of red flags were placed in the north, east and south. "Barely a month ago, our forces stationed at Fort Hraggstad were completely wiped out in a surprised attack leaving the western coast of Skyrim under Thalmor control. We have reports that a small portion of their navy is stationed near Northwatch Keep, which is located here." He pointed towards a small fort lying on the west coast. "And just recently, legionnaires under the command of Legate Emmanuel Admand were defeated in a small skirmish at Fort Snowhawk, hence, leaving Morthal in the hands of the Aldmeri Dominion." He then pointed to the extreme east where many red flags were proudly standing. "After the fall of Solitude, General Tullius took half of the legion with him and fortified the east, moving downwards from Windhelm to Riften before ordering Legate Rikke to fortify Falkreath. Markarth still stands free from Thalmor control as the damned Elves dare not set foot in the Reach." He explained.

Be met.

"Cipius?" Hrollod repeated the name. "Entrenched himself within the city of Whiterun, which is currently besieged by a sizeable Thalmor force that we cannot defeat."

"How many?"

"Ten thousand strong." Hrollod replied slowly.

Ciri frowned as she studied the map. "If we retake Solitude, we will cut off their supplies from the west coast, leaving the main army in Skyrim completely surrounded by Imperial forces." She moved a red flag towards Solitude. "And while Solitude falls, Northwatch Keep must fall with it." She moved another red flag. "How many ships does the Empire have?"

"We have at least twenty ships in Windhelm itself and another ten here in Dawnstar." Hrollod answered immediately. "The rest of our fleet are in Cyrodiil."

"Then get word to the ships in Windhelm and have them meet here in Dawnstar, I'll get my men to sail down to Windhelm in return." Ciri said. Hrollod merely turned and snapped his fingers at his aide to write it down. "What is the defenses of Solitude like? How many walls? How many men can the city hold?"

"The Solitude guards are mostly Nords and they hate the Thalmor guts as much as we do, but they aren't willing to risk anything unless High Queen Elisif is released from her house arrest. The Thalmor ambassador, Elenwen planned to use the High Queen as a tool to stop civil unrest in Solitude, as she knew that under normal circumstances, the guards would have thrown their lot with us and oust them out. If we can get the High Queen out of the city and ensure her safety, then the entire population in Solitude will rise up with us." Hrollod answered with folded arms. "But I must warn you that there is only one main gate. The other walls are built atop a natural rock formation leaving it un-scalable unless you don't mind falling to your death, not even our catapults can hit the walls at that height." He paused before continuing. "However, I do know of another way into the city, but it can only hold a small squad of soldiers and not an entire cohort. I've sent men and haven't heard from them since."

"Hmm...I'll sent Yennefer and a small squad of soldiers." Ciri said plainly. "She can shield their movements with her spells and make them completely invisible to the naked eye, they can then sneak into the city and free the High Queen and take control from within. And while Yennefer does that, I'll sent another small group towards their embassy and put it to the torch. I'll personally lead the main army to Morthal and retake Fort Snowhawk." She tilted her head towards Hrollod. "Can I count on your soldiers to provide support?"

"You have it." Hrollod said. "I'll join your men in overtaking Solitude, the rest of my men can move south and join your forces in taking Morthal."

* * *

 **Egbert I**

It was by all accounts, a quiet evening in the Redanian military encampment in White Orchard. Egbert was a veteran in the Redanian Royal Army, having served King Radovid V ever since he first took the throne, he was placed in charge of the army in White Orchard and was supposed to strike back against the Nilfgaardians when they suddenly lowered their flags and marched to Velen. While the others cheered, he was in deep thought. There was no way that the Nilfgaardians would pull their forces back from a strategic position, not after when they just conquered Temeria a few months back, he smelt something fishy in the air but his other comrades wouldn't believe him. If there was any mistake that he had made, it was allowing the soldiers to set up their campfires and remove their heavy armor. The horses neighed continuously without stopping and not even the handlers could calm them down, the dogs were growling and barking before they whimpered and fled with their tails beneath their legs, Egbert glanced towards the dark forest beside the Redanian camp for any sign of Nilfgaardian troops but he could see nothing from the thick fog that obscured his vision. For a moment, he thought he saw some movements within the trees until a small rabbit hopping out of the bushes, he narrowed his eyes as thick hollowed rumbling sounds could be heard resonating deep within the forest. He waved it aside as the sounds of thunder. And then suddenly, a huge tree fell at the entrance of the camp - and another towards their rear entrance. He realized a little too late that they had been effectively cut off from both ends of the road, the rumbling sound soon became louder and louder and it wasn't long before he saw torches in the trees.

The rumbling sound wasn't thunder like he thought it was - when it was actually heavy footfall from five thousand Imperial soldiers.

"TO ARMS MEN! TO ARMS!" He roared, drawing out his blade.

"Are they Black Ones?" Yelled one of the men.

Egbert froze when his eyes met the kite-dragon banner. "No it can't be..." He whispered. "It's the Empire..."

"What?"

"It's the fucking Cyrodiilic Empire!" He cried. "We need to warn the King!"

"I don't think we can make it out alive sir..." Another Redanian soldier said softly with his eyes focused on their rear.

Egbert whirled his head around and stared with his mouth agape. Horsemen, at least a hundred of them were charging from above the hill to their left while Imperial infantry closed in on their right, the Redanians were surrounded on all sides with no chance of escaping. He had heard tales about the Imperial soldiers and their fighting tactics, he waved it all aside as a fairy-tale for he believed that it was impossible to charge in ranks and here he was staring at the foreigners charging at him in ranks. He ducked when they hurled their spears, then again and again, he heard the sounds of men screaming in pain but he dared not turn around to look at his soldiers but instead focused on keeping himself alive. He watched helplessly as the Imperials clashed against the Redanian ranks, it was pure slaughter as many Redanians fell to the blades of the foreign soldiers while there were still a few lucky Redanians that managed to strike back, but there were still more Redanian dead than Imperial slain. He dodged right to evade a down-cut from an Imperial soldier, he twirled his blade around and thrust it through the Imperial's neck causing the man to tumble to the ground. He wiped the cold sweat away from his forehead and glanced around, what he saw did not set well with him - Redanian bodies dotted the entire camp with only a minority on the Imperial's side. He tried to make a break for the edge of the road, when he suddenly felt himself being lifted into the air, his entire body was at the mercy of magic. The magic-user that was holding him slowly turned him around and he found himself staring into the eyes of the most notorious sorceress ever known in Novigrad; Triss Merigold.

"You...you're working with the Empire?" He spat.

The red-headed sorceress snorted. "Correction. I'm working with Nilfgaard. And Nilfgaard is allied to the Empire."

"No! Impossible!"

Triss folded her arms impatiently. "You can rant and complain anyway you want, but you won't be alive to see the sun." And with that, she snapped her fingers and Egbert knew no more when his head exploded into a million pieces - spilling his brains and blood all over the ground. "Grab their armor and banners." The Imperial soldiers saluted and went about stripping the armor from the dead Redanians and pulling down the various flags. "I hope your plan works." She whispered to no one in particular.

* * *

 **Hrollod I**

It was under the cover of darkness when a small company of Imperial and Nilfgaardian troops swam towards the Solitude docks, using arcane arts to become invinsible to the naked eye. True, the Solitude guards could sniff them right out and sound the alarm but it turned out that the docks were not being patrolled on that very night, and the archers atop the walls faced the other way instead. Legate Hrollod smiled, his message must have gotten through. He was following the Nilfgaardian sorceress known to him only as Yennefer, she and the Nilfgaardians took point the moment he showed them the secret passage into the city, he was confused at how magic worked on the other side for Yennefer was speaking in some language that he didn't understand just to cast a light bright enough to lit up the tunnel. But he chose to save his questions for later, for now they had a task to accomplish. As they went deeper into the tunnel, they stumbled upon several decaying corpses, the stench of death was evident in the air that caused several Imperials and Nilfgaardians to cover their noses. Hrollod's eyes went wide. He recognized each and every single one of them, for he had served with them ever since he was attached to the Fourth Legion, they had been on countless of battles and skirmishes together. They laughed and trained together, fought together, cried together and mourned together.

They were his soldiers. They were his brothers.

"The Thalmor will pay for this, I swear it." He swore to the fallen legionnaires, he turned to look at his men. "Take their tags and burn their bodies. I will not have my brothers rot anymore in this infested area, we will honor them with proper funerals once Solitude is ours again." He watched as the Imperials reached down and removed the signet rings and amulets from the fallen before the battlemages came forward and set the bodies alight, he placed his right hand over his heart with several other Imperials doing the same. As the flames died down, he turned and walked past Yennefer in a storm of rage. "Let's go." He hissed. Yennefer wisely chose not to comment.

When they finally reached the surface, Hrollod motioned for his soldiers to move forward before giving a curt nod to Yennefer to do the same. As quiet as a mouse, they ran towards the Blue Palace where High Queen Elisif was being held against her own free will, two swift arrows ended the lives of two Thalmor guards. Hrollod was surprised, the courtyard was totally cleared of Thalmor guards, but he wasn't about to take his chances - he split his forces into two, one would remain outside and fortify the area while the other half would accompany him inside the Palace itself. Yennefer did the same with the Nilfgaardians. Using her magic, Yennefer managed to open the doors without making any major sound that would attract attention, Hrollod and the rest rushed in the moment an opening was made. They scoured the first floor, having to silence a few Thalmor soldiers guarding the servants quarters. Leaving behind three soldiers to protect the rescued servants, the rest went up the spiral stairs only to meet the High Queen's Housecarl; Bolgeir Bearclaw and three Solitude guards standing over six Thalmor bodies.

"By Talos, Hrollod!" Bolgeir exclaimed and approached with his arms wide.

"Bolgeir, you damn old fool!" Hrollod embraced his friend in a brotherly embrace. They parted shortly with a firm pat on each others' shoulders. "How did you know we were coming?"

"Your message." Bolgeir replied, holding up a small parchment. "You were smart in getting a child to run your errand, he ran past a guardsman and slipped the parchment into his hands before making a break for the stables. The guard immediately came to me with the letter. I managed to break the code using what memory I retained while serving in the Eighteenth Legion, imagine my surprise when I realized that the Empire had called for reinforcements from a foreign continent." His gaze landed on the group of soldiers with winged-helms and dark heavy-plate armors, and then towards the woman standing in front of them whom he immediately acknowledge as the leader. "By the Divines...His Imperial Majesty actually requested aid from the Nilfgaardians? Well, well, color me impressed."

"You can gawk in awe later Bolgeir." Hrollod interrupted with a smile. "But we must now focus on getting the High Queen out of here." As soon as he said that, the door to his right swung open revealing Elisif the Fair in all her glory with her stewards and court wizard and a contigent of guards. "Your Grace, we are here to escort you out of the city."

"I appreciate your concern for my safety Legate." Elisif waved his concerns aside. "But this is my city and these are my people. The time for waiting is over, long have I bidded my time and listened to the Aldmeri Dominion's every wish, forced to obey their laws. I cannot and will not stand by this anymore." She turned to face her Housecarl and her soldiers. "You have served me well even though you were forced to listen to Thalmor commands, but no longer, tonight marks the start of the revolution. It is high time we oust the High Elves from our city, our home and our land. We are Nords. And Nordic folk do not run from a fight." With no hesitation, she drew out her late husband's sword from its scabbard. "So I ask you men of the Imperial Legion and Solitude, will you stand with me? Will you be my brother?!"

The result was a resounding cheer.

"Hail to the Queen!"

"HAIL TO THE QUEEN!"

 **"HAIL TO THE QUEEN!"**

And that was exactly what happened. Imperial soldiers alongside their Nilfgaardian allies and the Solitude guards charged out from the Blue Palace and into the streets, picking up more guards along the way, cutting down any Mer dumb enough to stand in their way towards Castle Dour. Hrollod watched as High Queen Elisif led the Solitude soldiers into the castle itself, he ordered his soldiers to storm the Thalmor diplomats' tower instead, he kicked down the doors that the door itself broke apart from its ledges and fell to the floor with a thud. "Kill them all!" He roared. Imperial and Nilfgaardian soldiers rushed past him to engage the Thalmor Justiciars, it didn't take long before the massacre ended with Thalmor dead and a few Imperial wounded, but the skirmish was won, three diplomats were rounded up and brought before him. He smirked devilishly as he approached the diplomats. He raised his sword high. "This is for my brothers!" He beheaded one. "This is for all the Nords that died under your rule!" He beheaded another. He stalked towards the final diplomat, whom glanced at him with pure hatred, he ignored the hateful glare and raised his blade. "And this is for the legionnaires that died at Fort Hraggstad!" His cold steel sword severed through the neck of the diplomat as easy as it was cutting butter. Using his left hand, he grabbed the decapitated diplomat's head by the hair and held it aloft for all to witness. The Imperials burst into loud hoots and hollers.

"May Akatosh guide the Nilfgaardians in their fight at the embassy." He prayed silently as he relished in his victory.

* * *

 **Elan Trahe I**

Both Masser and Secunda were shining bright in the night sky when two hundred Nilfgaardians commanded by Elan Trahe rode towards the Thalmor Embassy with only one objective; capture or kill the Ambassador Elenwen. Judging from what Legate Hrollod had told him, the Embassy itself is guarded by a squadron of Thalmor soldiers and nearly twenty Thalmor wizards - High Elves that are fully trained in the expert-level of Destruction and Conjuration spells and should be avoided in full frontal combat if possible. Elan held out his right hand and the company behind him came to a halt, thankfully the darkness was still nigh and their armor completely merged with the darkness in the woods but if they were to take a single step forward, they would be immediately spotted by the sentries. And he did not want that to happen. He studied the guards formation and movements, he scanned the low walls, it was possible for his men to climb over but with their heavy armor - they would be shot before even making it over the fence. He was briefed about what to expect inside the Embassy by several legionnaires that attended a peace conference some time ago that ended with the war breaking out between the two factions, it would appear that the Thalmor wanted the Empire to cede more land to the Aldmeri Dominion and Emperor Titus Mede II finally had enough and slammed his foot down.

He ordered an archer to set the sights on the sentries while the others moved forward silently, making doubly sure to stay within the shadows of the trees, when the patrol of Thalmor moved to the other side - he gave the signal to fire. The sentry tumbled into the snow, the arrow piercing thru his vocal chords leaving him gurgling on the ground in agony with no chance to scream or yell, the second sentry nearly yelled for reinforcements before another swift arrow silenced his voice. Thankfully, the sound of two bodies hitting the ground wasn't heard by the Thalmor patrol within the Embassy. With the sentries down, the path towards the main entrance was clear and the Nilfgaardian soldiers moved quickly towards the gate and crashed it down, startling the Thalmor patrolling the yard that they didn't had time to draw their weapons before arrows flew in overhead and struck most of their numbers. The few that remained charged forward. The Nilfgaardians rushed forward with their weapons raised and clashed with the Thalmor soldiers, Men and Mer fell to each others' blade as both sides fought for their lives. Elan twirled his sword and decapitated a High Elf that tried to disembowel him, he parried left and struck downwards, easily severing a leg from a Thalmor soldier. Then out of nowhere, a ball of fire flew past his head and directly into a group of Nilfgaardians, he could only watch in horror as the soldiers were burned alive in their armor, screaming and crying in agony as they fell.

Thalmor wizards could be seen rushing out from within the embassy, no doubt to stop or stall their advance but Elan had already predicted their movements and ordered his archers to fire a volley and watched with a smile as it struck the wizards with deadly accuracy. He pushed his way past the confused Thalmor ranks and charged into the embassy itself, cutting down every single Thalmor that stood in his path towards his goal. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. He kept track as the body count continued to rise as he made his way deeper into the embassy, it wasn't long before he found himself at the backyard surrounded by Thalmor soldiers. He narrowed his eyes at the High Elf standing ahead of him, protected by a dozen Thalmor soldiers - all fully armed, this was Elenwen, the Ambassador of the Aldmeri Dominion.

"I'm impressed outsider. Not that many can actually breach into a Thalmor Embassy." Elenwen clapped her hands mockingly. "Ashame that you won't be leaving here with your head intact."

Elan scoffed and used what he knew of the common speech. "You Elven bastards are all the same. Thinking lowly on us humans." Elenwen and her guards burst out in laughter at his comment, he smiled when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. "Perhaps, we can come to an understanding Ambassador. Lower your flags and march back to whence you came or risk facing the might of Nilfgaard." As soon as he said that, the doors behind him swung open revealing the Nilfgaardian soldiers, having killing off the Thalmor in the courtyard. "Solitude is being liberated as we speak and Her Highness is moving against your other occupied-cities, we will liberate this land from the likes of you. Now, I won't ask again. Lower your weapons and march straight back to where you came from."

"Never! I won't be undermined by some human!" Elenwen screeched in fury. "Kill them! Kill them all!" She growled.

The remaining Thalmor soldiers charged forward only to meet a similiar fate as the ones stationed in the courtyard, in less than a minute, every single High Elf with the exception of Elenwen lay dead on the ground in a pool of blood. Elan raised his bloodied blade. "You have lost Ambassador." Elenwen growled at his words. He gestured an arm around the dozen corpses. "Take a good look at the carnage around you. You may not have swung the sword but your words are the ones that caused their deaths. You may deny it before your Gods that you didn't have anything to do with this, but nothing can change the fact that their blood is on your hands." He strode forward with his sword still raised towards Elenwen. "The world would be better off without the likes of you. I lost eighteen good men this night, and I should kill you myself to avenge their souls but I have my orders." He sheathed his blade.

"Tarraing léi go dtí an chathair le mo bheannacht." He spoke in the Elder Speech towards the Nilfgaardians. Two men walked forward and roughly grabbed Elenwen by her arms and started dragging her out despite her loud protests and screeching of retribution. "Agus a gobán di!" He roared and Elenwen's voice died down as a gag was forced into her mouth.

The Skirmish at the Thalmor Embassy is over. But the Second Great War is about to reach its climax.

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 **A/N:** **I've read the Witcher wikia and it is stated that the Elder Speech (Nilfgaardian Language) took inspiration from the languages; Irish, Welsh and Old Norse, but the real language was brought out totally from scratch. For my story, I made use of the Irish language for the Nilfgaardian language.**

 **Please head over to my profile and cast your vote on an important poll that had to do with the next chapter.**


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